


Frozen Memories

by celtic7irish



Series: WinterIron [3]
Category: Black Panther (2018), Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: Black Panther Post-Credits Spoilers, Black Panther Spoilers, Bucky Feels, Glacial even, M/M, REALLY slow, Slow Burn, They're making progress, This will eventually turn into a relationship, Tony Feels, Tony Needs a Hug
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-02-26
Updated: 2018-02-26
Packaged: 2019-03-24 10:04:37
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 7,667
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13808916
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/celtic7irish/pseuds/celtic7irish
Summary: Tony visits Wakanda to talk Vibranium.  But they both know he's there for something else entirely.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> This was supposed to be the last story of this series, but the characters aren't cooperating. So there will be one more fic following this one, because it is intended to be WinterIron. They're just taking the long way around because some things need to happen first before the two of them actually move forward. So please, enjoy the scenic route!

Tony sauntered down the hallway of the palace, following the female guards that T’challa had assigned to him.  Another two were behind him, and he couldn’t help the feeling that he was a prisoner rather than a guest of the King of Wakanda.  Not that T’challa’s suspicions weren’t justified; the Accords had not been forgotten, nor had his role in the events that had followed.  Nonetheless, Tony was here, and he had damn well earned the courtesy of a brief visit.  He had been trying to keep his people safe, in the only way he knew how.  T’challa had done the same.

 

Now, though, as Tony was led into a suite that consisted of nearly an entire wing of the palace, he wondered if T’challa was hiding something.  The king had been forewarned of his visit, so there had been no surprises there – diplomatic negotiations were tedious – but Tony still suspected that the king was keeping something from him.  He had honestly been expected to be barred from accessing certain parts of the palace, or the kingdom, but T’challa had made no such demands.  Which was only going to make this that much harder for Tony, as he didn’t have a place to start.  He was running on suspicions and rumors at this point.

 

Tony hadn’t heard from Steve or the others in months now, and while a large part of him mourned that, the rest of him was just as happy that they remained underground.  As long as they stayed out of the public eye, the world governments would continue to turn a blind eye to their existence.  Oh, Tony knew that there were people looking for the renegade super-powered humans – and the inhumans – but their search was half-hearted at best.

 

Tony found himself glad, not for the first time, that Bruce had accepted Thor’s offer of a visit to his home world, a place where he wouldn’t be a monster, but a mighty warrior worthy of Asgard.  He wished there was a way to communicate with his friend, but that didn’t seem likely, unless Jane Foster had some sort of breakthrough that allowed inter-dimensional phone calls or something.  But for now, having Bruce anywhere but on Earth was a good thing, especially with that asshole Ross in charge.  Secretary of State, Iron Man’s gold-plated ass.

 

“You will remain here until our King calls for you,” one of the women – Aneka, or maybe that was Okoye – told him, her hand resting lightly on the hilt of a very large sword.

 

Tony nodded.  “Uh, yeah, no leaving the room.  Got it,” he agreed easily – he’d seen T’challa’s female guards training on his way in, and he was pretty sure that they could bend him in half with one hand.  The guard just glared at him for a moment, then made an abrupt about-face and stalked off, her companions falling in line behind her.

 

The doors closed firmly behind the Dora Milaje, leaving Tony standing in the middle of the lavish chambers he’d been assigned, wondering if this was such a good idea after all.  But he had no other leads; if Steve and the others had retreated anywhere, it was likely to be here.  No outsiders were permitted across the Wakandan borders.  Tony was still surprised that they’d granted him permission to enter Wakanda for a brief visit.  The story was that he was here to negotiate a purchase of Vibranium for use by Stark Industries, with a caveat that the precious material would not be used for weapons.  Which was why Tony was here, and not a member of the United States military; he’d kept his promise to keep Stark Industries out of the weapons business, permanently.

 

Once he was certain that he’d been left alone, Tony carefully stored his suitcase, then set about exploring the wing he’d been given.  All the rooms appeared to be connected, and he found himself wandering through galleries and an armory, and something that was like a museum of past Kings and previous incarnations of the Black Panther.  Apparently, the panther had been a guardian of Wakanda since its inception.  It was fascinating, really, but Tony couldn’t help the prickling sensation that he was being watched carefully.  He made sure to take his time exploring, careful not to go near any doors that might lead back out into the main palace.  He needed to earn some modicum of trust here if he had any hope of finding what he’d actually come here for.

 

When he’d finished exploring as much as he was able of his quarters, Tony returned to the primary bedchambers, his fingers beating out an uneven rhythm against his chest, where his arc reactor had once sat.  He’d long since had it removed, the device too visible of a vulnerability.  Hell, if he’d had it when Steve had torn the one out of his suit, he’d probably be dead by now.

 

Thinking about Steve fucking Rogers wasn’t doing him any favors, and Tony shuddered as he sat heavily on the bed, swallowing hard and very deliberately not thinking about what had happened that day.  All he needed to know was that Steve had taken his best friend and his allies and run, dividing the Avengers in a way that couldn’t be undone.  But that wasn’t what he was here for, not really, though he rather suspected that Steve and company had been granted sanctuary by the Wakandan Empire.  Which didn’t make a lot of sense, really, given than T’Challa’s father had been at the UN to sign the Accords.  Still, Tony couldn’t blame T’Challa for being unwilling to follow in his father’s footsteps without some assurances.  Assurances which Tony was here to provide.

 

Tony snorted.  Ross might think he was clever, sending Tony Stark in to talk some sense into the King of Wakanda, but honestly, Tony had very little interest in diplomacy.  No, he was here for one specific reason, and that was it.  All that remained was finding out just how difficult it would be to accomplish his goals before he was either thrown out or executed, either outcome equally possible under Wakandan law for violations by outsiders.

 

Standing, Tony walked over to the floor-to-ceiling windows on the outer wall of his bedroom, staring out into Wakanda, a city that somehow managed to combine the elaborate architectural style of ancient civilization with modern technological marvels, like the famous city of Tenochtitlan, if it was made entirely of vibranium.  From where he was standing, Tony could see the forest that surrounded Wakanda stretching out into the distance, a virtual sea of green.

 

He shivered, stepping back carefully.  Tony had no particular love for nature, for the wilderness.  He liked his technology and his toys just fine, thanks so much.  Walking back towards the bed – seriously, was he supposed to take a nap? What was taking T’challa so long? – he checked that nobody was around before picking up his suitcase and tossing it onto the bed.

 

Pressing his fingers against the latches so they could do a biometric scan, Tony smiled in grim satisfaction when the case unlocked with a soft click.  T’challa undoubtedly believed that Tony had brought his Iron Man armor with him, which would have been the smart thing to do.  But Tony absolutely did not want his armor anywhere near this isolated kingdom, especially since he was pretty sure he was going to end up doing something stupid, and drastic, and the armor was more useful back in New York, under Jarvis’ command.

 

Inside the case were three items, wrapped tightly and padded; a metal arm, devoid of any identifying marks, a small black box, and a battered red leather book with a single black star in its center – the Winter Soldier’s training book.  Tony let his fingers brush carefully along the book’s cover before tapping in a code on the keypad embedded in the case’s lining, activating the suitcase’s safety precautions, and closing the case again with a sharp snap.  Now, even if T’challa’s people could get past the biometrics, they’d have to deal with a countdown of three seconds before the whole thing blew with enough power to take out the whole room, and anybody in it.

 

Satisfied that his cargo was as safe as it could possibly be, Tony decided that he should probably prepare for whenever T’challa decided to summon him.  Wakanda had promised to provide clothing suitable to their environment for him.  He still hadn’t decided if that was a good thing or not.

 

First things first.  Tony walked into the huge bathroom that he’d explored when he’d first arrived, just to the right of his bedroom.  The bathtub was actually more like a sunken pool in the floor, and as soon as Tony set foot on the tile, jets started pouring water into the basin, like a bunch of mini waterfalls, steam swirling up around them.  The tiles around the basin were smooth and in varying shades of blue and green, with flecks of gold in them.  It was rather surreal, and Tony sighed as the floor heated up under his bare feet while he stripped down, dropping his clothes down a chute.

 

Carefully, he stepped down into the basin, which had several descending rings around it, an oddly functional combination of staircase and bench.  The water was just this side of too hot, and Tony sank into it with a rather obscene moan, soaking up to his shoulders.  A scent that he couldn’t place wafted around him, undoubtedly something added to the water, and Tony felt his body relaxing.  “Oh my god, I need one of these so badly,” he muttered.  He’d get to work on that just as soon as he got back to New York.

 

For a long while, he just allowed himself to sit in the water, which never seemed to grow any cooler, and Tony realized that the stone tiles surrounding it were also heated.  Murmuring appreciatively, Tony finally forced his body – reluctantly – to move across the basin so he could get to the soaps and washes.  He figured if one of T’challa’s guards came in, they could either wait for him, or bang on the door.  In the meanwhile, however, he was completely okay with taking his time.

 

When he was finally clean and turning pruny, Tony climbed out of the tub, which immediately started draining.  He found himself wondering if the technology was based on pressure or weight or if there were motion sensors built into the room.

 

He found the closet containing the towels, and grinned with delight when he discovered that they were warm, as well.  And so soft.  Tony shivered with pleasure as he dried himself off, wrapping the towel around his waist before heading back out into the main area to find the clothes he’d been promised.  The towel reached nearly to his ankles, which did nothing to stop his embarrassment when he walked out of the bedroom to find T’challa himself sitting on the chair next to his bed, watching him curiously.

 

“Mr. Stark,” the King of Wakanda greeted.  “I trust you found our accommodations suitable?”  He sounded vaguely amused, and Tony felt the heat in his cheeks as he flushed.

 

“They’re amazing,” he admitted honestly, glancing back towards the washroom.  “I appreciate you agreeing to meet with me.” He paused, unsure how to phrase the next part, but then plowed on – he’d never been good at diplomacy, anyhow, that’s what lawyers and actual diplomats were for.  “Umm…if you give me just a minute, I’ll get dressed and then we can talk business.”  It came out as more of a question than he liked, but T’challa just nodded, standing easily to his feet.

 

“You will find clothes behind the door to your right,” T’challa informed him.  “I hope you find them suitable.”

 

Tony blinked.  “I’m sure they’ll be fine,” he replied, shifting awkwardly.  Would it be bad manners to turn his back on the other man?  Probably.

 

T’challa just nodded again.  “Very good.  When you are ready, please let Okoye know, and she will bring you to me so that we may discuss…business.”  Tony hid the wince with practiced ease – T’challa sounded doubtful about the legitimacy of his presence here, and that….wasn’t good.

 

A moment later, T’challa was gone, and Tony huffed out a nervous breath, taking a moment to reorganize his thoughts before moving towards the walk-in closet and pulling out a pair of incredibly soft jeans and a black tank top, inordinately pleased that he’d been provided with clothing that was similar to what he’d wear back home, newer and unworn, but just as comfortable.

 

As armored as he was going to get, Tony strode to the front of the room and opened the door, looking to the woman standing guard there.  “Okoye?” he asked.  Her eyes flicked towards him and she gave a sharp nod, but made no effort to actually speak, and Tony bit back another sigh.  So far, other than vaguely threatening instructions, nobody but T’challa had spoken to him since his arrival some hours before.  “I’m ready to see King T’challa,” he said, figuring it couldn’t hurt to at least use the guy’s title.  Okoye had already made it quite clear that she’d be more than happy to escort him out of Wakandan territory.  Forcefully.

 

“Follow,” Okoye ordered brusquely, turning sharply on her heels and marching down the corridor, forcing Tony to hurry to keep up with her longer stride as they wound their way deeper into the palace.  The few people that they passed in the hallways – various guards and servants, Tony supposed – went about their business, completely ignoring the foreigner in their midst.  Tony didn’t know whether to be grateful or annoyed.

 

When they reached a set of elaborate doors, two of the Dora Milaje standing sentry, Okoye stopped.  She turned to give Tony a look that froze him in his tracks, dark and angry and threatening, her lips pressed into a thin line.  “The King wishes to speak to you alone,” she informed him unhappily.  “We will be right outside, so do not attempt anything foolish.”

 

Tony nodded, shoving his hands in his pockets and slouching indolently.  “Yeah, yeah, don’t try to assassinate the big guy, got it,” he muttered, resisting the urge to roll his eyes.  The Dora Milaje tensed at his insubordinate countenance, but Okoye raised a hand and they fell still again, staring straight forward.  Tony could practically feel the suspicion and disapproval radiating from them.

 

Okoye gave him one final glare, then pivoted and rapped sharply on the doors.  They opened silently, and Okoye stood aside, allowing Tony to enter.  He gave her his most charming press smile as he passed her.  “Thanks so much,” he said brightly.  Okoye just gave him a dark glare, and the doors shut behind him with a loud thud.  Everything was quiet, and Tony took a deep breath before looking around.

 

The throne room was very…spartan.  In fact, it was pretty much a round dome with a throne on a dais in the middle of it.  The throne, though, that was odd.  Made of sleek black metal, it was circular, with a higher arch above the throne’s back.  Runes were carved into the front of it, and the whole thing felt like it was humming, as if it had a life of its own and was just waiting.  The last time Tony had felt something similar, he’d been holding Cap’s shield, left behind after their fight in Siberia.

 

Tony’s breath left him in a quiet sigh, his eyes riveted to the vibranium throne.  He’d heard that Wakanda was rich in the material, but this was…exquisite.  If he could get his hands on just a bit of this stuff, he could….well, he wasn’t sure, really, but he knew it would be spectacular.  An Iron Man armor made of the stuff would be nearly unstoppable.

 

“I can see the thoughts going through your mind, Tony Stark,” a deep voice rumbled from behind Tony.  “I’m afraid that Wakanda’s vibranium stores are not for sale.”

 

Tony shook his head.  “No,” he agreed, “it’s probably best that way. I…don’t know that I can be trusted with it,” he admitted.  “Much less the United States government.”  T’challa was staring at him inscrutably, and Tony did his best not to fidget.  Whatever the other man was looking for, he either found it or he stopped looking, because he nodded and strolled over to his throne, taking a seat.  Tony felt rather like a peasant, which was, admittedly, downright unpleasant.  He was used to being the smartest, brightest, wealthiest person in the room, and T’challa made him feel small and insignificant.

 

He shook it off, adjusting his stance and clasping his hands behind his back, one hand holding the opposite wrist at the base of his spine, a sort of casual military pose.  “King T’challa, thank you for agreeing to see me on behalf of the United States Armed Forces,” he began, then grimaced.  Fuck it.

 

“Okay, you and I both know that I couldn’t possibly care less what that asshole Ross wants from Wakanda,” he stated bluntly.  “So how about we cut to the chase?”

 

T’challa’s mouth twitched up in mild amusement, but he only said, “Oh?  I was under the impression that you were here on a mission of diplomacy.”

 

Tony grimaced.  “Yeah, about that…they want vibranium.  You and I already know that’s not going to happen.  They also want Captain America and the rest of his rogue buddies.  They’re obviously not here.”  Which was a bold-faced lie, and they both knew it, but Tony hadn’t laid eyes on them, and as long as they stayed out of his sight, he wouldn’t have any reason to call T’challa out on a falsehood if Rogers and his team really were here.

 

T’challa rested his elbows on either armrest, his fingers steepled together in front of his mouth.  “Very well, then, Mister Stark,” he replied mildly.  “Then perhaps you can tell me your true purpose for being here.”  His dark eyes were knowing as they stared down at him, and Tony fought the urge to fidget like a schoolchild caught misbehaving by the teacher.  He was Iron Man, goddammit.  He could do this, no problem.

 

“I want to see him,” he said baldly.  “Barnes.”  Just in case either of them had any doubts.

 

T’challa’s eyes widened just slightly, and Tony realized that the King had actually not been expecting that.  “I see,” he said, settling back, his hands coming to rest lightly on the arms of his throne.  “And what makes you believe that Sergeant Barnes is here?  Or that you would be permitted to see him even if he were?”

 

Tony tilted his head.  “Where Barnes goes, Rogers goes,” he said bluntly.  “And vice versa.  I know you offered them sanctuary, and this is one of the few countries where I can’t get any actual surveillance.”  He grinned sharply.  “I doubt they sought refuge in Latveria.”

 

T’challa just stared back at him calmly.  “You have not answered the second question,” he said, ignoring Tony’s observations for now.

 

Tony’s eyes narrowed.  “Barnes and I have some unfinished business to attend to,” he replied, keeping his voice steady, giving nothing away.

 

“That does little to reassure me that your intentions are of a…benevolent nature,” T’challa informed him, though he didn’t appear particularly concerned. He seemed more curious than anything, and Tony shrugged.

 

“Look, I think we both know that I’m not the altruistic type,” he said, “so let me make this easy.  The first time we met, he shot and kidnapped me.  I choked him unconscious.  The second time we met, I tore off his arm, and his best friend busted up my suit.  I’m not here for anybody but myself, and I want to see Barnes.  If that’s not going to happen, just send me on my way now.”

 

He waited somewhat patiently while T’challa stared down at him.  Once upon a time, he would’ve been able to beat around the bush with the best of them. He would’ve distracted, deflected, and negotiated for days before he got around to his actual reason for this visit.  But he was tired, and he was pissed, and he was just so fucking done with trying to be the responsible one.  If Steve wanted to blow off the Accords and three quarters of the world’s governments, then fine. Tony wasn’t going to stop his negotiations, wasn’t going to stop trying to make the world as safe for everybody as possible, but he was done trying to meet Steve halfway.

 

Barnes, though, was a completely different story.  It wasn’t like Tony hadn’t done his research on the other man.  He’d tried to look him up after Afghanistan, but all he’d been able to find was what he already knew, that James Buchanan “Bucky” Barnes had been presumed killed in action, the only one of the Howling Commandos to give his life in service to his country.

 

It wasn’t until after that mess in DC that Tony had managed to link Barnes to the Winter Soldier, and even then, information on him was scarce.  Hydra had covered their tracks well.  Not even Natasha’s infodump had given him much more than rumors to go on, whispers of an asset that was faster, stronger, and deadlier than the rest.

 

After Siberia, though, Tony had finally connected the dots, had realized that whatever had happened to Barnes, it had turned him into a weapon.  And still, he had fought where he could.  Afghanistan, for one.  And again in DC, where he had dragged Steve’s sorry ass out of the Potomac.    But there had been signs, before that, that Barnes was fighting.  An assassination plot that had been foiled because the first shot missed; a government on the verge of collapse that had suddenly been revitalized; a royal family that had been wiped from existence, save a single granddaughter that had somehow miraculously escaped the carnage.  It wasn’t much, but once Tony was looking for it, he couldn’t stop.

 

“I am sorry, Mister Stark,” T’challa said at last, startling Tony from his thoughts as he rose.  “But I am afraid that even if Sergeant Barnes had sought shelter in this country, I could not allow you to see him.”

 

Tony’s eyes narrowed.  “Can’t? Or won’t?” he demanded.

 

T’challa raised a single eyebrow.  “Does it make a difference?” he asked mildly.

 

“Does it – of course it makes a difference,” Tony huffed, trying really hard not to roll his eyes at the King of Wakanda; that would be undignified.  “Can’t implies that Barnes is….incapacitated. Or worse, not here, in which case I wasted a perfectly good excuse for nothing.  Won’t just tells me that you’re being difficult, probably because Rogers is afraid I’m going to come here to finish him off or something.”  He snorted.

 

T’challa’s mouth curled into a small smirk.  And then the bastard changed the topic.  “Your ‘excuse’, as it were, had to do with the Accords, did it not?” he asked.

 

Tony raised an eyebrow.  “Yeah, sure, let’s talk Accords,” he agreed.  “Any chance that Wakanda will change its current stance on the Accords?  If I’m not mistaken, Wakanda is currently against the Accords, a complete turnaround from the nation’s stance prior to its new leadership.”  T’challa had refused to sign the Accords as they were written, stating that he would be happy to revisit them should certain protections be put into place to protect the same people the Accords were meant to hold accountable.  Since Tony agreed with most of them, he had been perfectly happy to let T’challa go his merry way.  That he’d taken most of Tony’s biggest problems with him had only been a bonus.

 

“Wakanda’s position on the matter remains unchanged,” T’challa acknowledged.  “However, we do try to keep apprised of negotiations regarding the Accords.  It would appear that you are having some success, however minimal.”

 

Tony’s smile sharpened.  “I’m not sure whether to be flattered or insulted, Your Highness,” he said.

 

T’challa just shrugged, like it wasn’t his problem, then rose from his throne.  “Follow me, Mister Stark,” he said.  “We can discuss more of the Accords while we walk.”

 

Tony pursed his lips, but realized that he didn’t have much of a choice.  T’challa would totally leave his ass standing in the middle of the throne room.  He’d probably send in a couple of his guards to escort him back to his room, which, as spacious as it was, wasn’t really where he wanted to be right now.  Besides, walking with the King would give him a good excuse to scope the place out.  It wasn’t like blueprints of the palace existed on the internet, as isolated as this kingdom was.

 

T’challa was already halfway out the door by the time Tony realized he should be moving and hurried to catch up.  The guards standing outside the throne room shifted as if to follow them.  T’challa held his hand up in a universal gesture, and they subsided, but Tony could feel their glares boring into his back, his shoulders tensing.  “Your people really don’t like me, huh?” he muttered under his breath.

 

“They do not know you,” T’challa corrected, making Tony wince; he hadn’t meant for the other man to hear that.  “But Wakanda has kept itself hidden for centuries.  To have so many strangers here now is…uncomfortable for many of them,” he admitted.  Tony hummed in acknowledgment; he could understand that.  It had been seven kinds of awkward when he’d first invited the Avengers to live in the Tower, even for the short time that had lasted.

 

“Yeah, well, can’t say that I blame them,” he admitted softly.  T’challa gave him an approving nod and continued his stroll down the corridors of the palace.  They wound their way deeper, and it took Tony a while to notice that they were steadily heading downwards.  There hadn’t been any steps, and the only reason he’d noticed was that the few windows they passed were higher up on the wall, and the angle of the sun indicated its position relative to them.

 

He glanced over at T’challa.  “So, I suppose now might not the best time to say this, but there are actually people who know where I am.  You know, just in case you decide to kill me or something.”

 

T’challa gave him an unimpressed stare.  “Those who know where you are expect you to come back with Vibranium for their weapons,” he replied steadily.  “As you have already made it clear that you have no intention of trying to strong-arm us into compliance, and no interest in actually acquiring our resources for any such purpose, I doubt they will be terribly concerned were you to not return.”  He paused.  “Something you may want to consider the next time.”

 

Tony smiled bitterly.  Who was he going to tell? Rhodey worked for the military still, and Tony would never put him in that position.  Pepper was busy running Stark Industries.  Telling Parker was just a Really Bad Idea.  And the other Avengers? The ones who had stayed?  They were hoping maybe he’d find Steve and talk some sense into him.

 

“We have arrived,” T’challa announced, stopping in front of another set of large doors.  There were no guards standing outside of this room, though.  Tony watched as T’challa pressed his hand against a hidden panel – biometric scans, no doubt.  He said something in his native language that Tony had no way to interpret – they usually used Thor and his All-Speak for that – and the panel lit up, flowing lines of light spreading outwards like veins – or circuits – over the door, from floor to ceiling.

 

The doors opened silently, and Tony gave an appreciative whistle which T’challa politely ignored.  Inside was an enormous room, with gleaming white walls and shiny silver tables, tools arranged precisely on their metal surfaces.  The room was chilly, and Tony shivered as exposed flesh made contact with the cold air.  There was a low hum of circuitry, probably for temperature and air flow control.  But the thing that caught his eyes, that grabbed his immediate and complete attention, was the horrifyingly familiar device set in the middle of the room.

 

“You put him on ice?” he managed to choke out, hurrying over to the cryo chamber.  It looked very similar to the ones that Hydra had used – and that Tony had destroyed one by one with vicious glee – despite being far better maintained.  “Steve let you?!”  He couldn’t see through the frosted window, but he knew exactly who was in there.

 

“It was Sergeant Barnes’ wish to go back into stasis, until such a time as his programming could be…removed,” T’challa said, a faint thread of disapproval in his tone. “Captain Rogers was not in favor of his decision, but in the end, it _was_ his to make.”  There was a brief, uncertain pause.  “I would have thought you would be pleased to find the Winter Soldier unable to do any further harm.”

 

Tony’s mouth twisted.  “Maybe a few months ago, that would have been true,” he admitted grudgingly.  “And I’m not saying that I don’t still kind of want to punch him in the face, but I don’t want to kill him.  What he did….he did because Hydra ordered him to.  Because they wiped his memories.”  He was quiet for a long moment, just staring blankly at the metal pod that contained Bucky Barnes, Winter Soldier.  “I found the original orders,” he said quietly, his eyes flicking up to take in T’challa’s expressionless face.  “He was supposed to kill me, too.  Wipe out the whole family.  But I wasn’t there, and he didn’t come looking.”

 

He’d found him, years later, in the middle of a desert in Afghanistan, with different orders.  Tony could still remember the coldness in his eyes, and the careful way he’d cleaned and patched his injured leg.  Of course, he had been the one responsible for the bullet hole in the first place, but why should that matter?  And in the end, Barnes had let him go.  He hadn’t realized it at the time, but if Bucky had been hellbent on turning him over to his Hydra masters, he would have taken him in the opposite direction of the search.  Instead, Tony had stumbled out of that unused base after choking the Soldier unconscious, and found himself only a few miles out from the search party.  Perhaps there still had been a part of Barnes inside the Soldier.

 

His fingers touched his mouth lightly, though he was careful to give nothing away.  Even when holding him captive, Barnes had been rather charming, as if he couldn’t help it, even brainwashed and murderous.

 

“Would now be a bad time to admit that I had planned to search for him with or without your permission?” he mused, staring at the frosted-over lid of the cryo chamber.  “I mean, like this is obviously better, because I’d really rather not be executed, but I came here with the intention of finding Barnes.”  He paused, glancing up when T’challa said nothing, then continued.  “I brought him a new arm.”

 

T’challa tilted his head to the side.  “And what does this new arm do?” he asked.

 

Tony smiled grimly.  He couldn’t blame T’challa for asking.  If Tony had wanted to, he could have programmed it to kill its owner once it was activated, or used it to track Barnes straight to Rogers.  But he hadn’t done any of those things.

 

“It’s just an arm,” he said, rather than explaining.  “I broke down Cap’s shield,” he admitted.  He couldn’t quite bring himself to feel bad about that, either.  Steve could get a new shield here if he wanted; Tony was sure there were smiths here who could do it.  “Your people can take a look at it first, of course, to make sure I didn’t tamper with it, but I did the best I could.”  He shrugged; it had taken him months to figure out how the arm was supposed to work, and hundreds of simulations, not to mention the models made out of various non-Vibranium alloys.  But when all was said and done, he was pretty sure he had a working model.  Of course, the only real test would be to install it on Barnes and see what happened.

 

T’challa was staring at him again.  “You melted Captain America’s shield to make an arm for the Winter Soldier?” he asked, stunned.

 

Tony shrugged.  “Yeah. Why? Is there a problem with that?” he demanded.

 

To his surprise, rather than reprimand him, the King’s lips twitched up into a smile.  “No, not at all,” he replied.  “I am sure that the Captain would have been delighted, had he known.”  It was a lie, and they both knew it, but T’challa was obviously pleased with Tony’s decision, which increased the chances that he’d get a chance to at least leave the arm here for Barnes, even if he didn’t get to meet the man in person.

 

He didn’t know if his expression gave him away, or if T’challa just knew the train of thought his mind had taken, but the King reached out and gripped his shoulder, turning him around and guiding him back out to the corridor.  “If you are amenable, we will begin the awakening process.  To avoid the shock this would normally cause, it will take several hours.  In the meantime, perhaps you could show me this arm and we could speak more over supper.”  It wasn’t really a question, but then again, Tony hadn’t expected it to be.  A part of him was pleased that T’challa was obviously taking Barnes’ safety seriously.

 

“Sure,” he agreed, allowing T’challa to steer him out of the room.  On the way out, they passed a young female, who eyed Tony curiously and glared at T’challa before disappearing into the lab.  Tony looked up at the King, who grinned.

 

“Princess Shuri.  My younger sister,” he told Tony.  His grin widened.  “She’s also the one responsible for most of our technological advancements in the last six years or so,” he admitted.

 

And suddenly her presence made more sense; she was probably the one in charge of Barnes’ recovery.  “Can she deprogram him?” he asked cautiously.  

 

T’challa’s voice was proud when he told Tony the news.  “She already has.”


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Please read the tags: There are spoilers in this chapter for a Black Panther movie post-credit scene.

“Where are we going again?” Tony huffed, hiking his way up the side of a mountain behind Shurt and T’challa, doing his best to ignore the fact that he was long with the two of them and no witnesses.

 

“I thought you said he was smart,” Shuri accused her brother, ignoring Tony’s wounded protest.

 

T’challa gave his sister a look.  “Be nice,” he reproached her mildly.  Shuri just rolled her eyes, and Tony tried not to feel as if he’d just been judged and found lacking by a sixteen year old tech genius.  His hands tightened on the rucksack he’d been given in place of his suitcase.  Shuri had examined Barnes’ new arm and given it her grudging approval; she was still certain she could do better, but apparently Barnes had repeatedly turned her down, stating that Wakandan technology shouldn’t be wasted on someone like him.  If nothing else, Shuri excelled at backhanded insults.

 

They had left the technological marvel of Wakanda some time ago, and were now traveling through open lands.  Every now and again, a herd of cattle would wander past in the distance, they’d pass travelers and merchants on the dirt roads.  Tony really hated nature.

 

“We’re almost there,” Shurt told him, gesturing ahead to a single hut on a hill.  Tony eyed it warily.

 

“Barnes is there?” he asked, still not sure if he was more impressed or pissed that T’challa had managed to completely pull the wool over his eyes in regards to where Barnes actually was.  He’d apparently been woken months ago, deprogrammed and brought to the outskirts of Wakanda to find himself or whatever nonsensical thing he thought he was doing.

 

As they approached, a handful of young children ran out of the hut, laughing as they ran towards the three newcomers.  “Were you bothering that man again?” Shuri asked, hands on her hips.  A chorus of denials rose around them.

 

Just then, the door of the hut opened, and Tony got his first glimpse of Barnes.  He barely even noticed the children running off, laughing, as he just stared.  Barnes blinked back at him.  “Stark,” he greeted, his voice gentler and more peaceful than Tony had ever heard it. This wasn’t the Winter Soldier in front of him.  Nor was it Bucky Barnes, best friend of Steve Rogers and roguish charmer.

 

“Barnes,” Tony managed to bite out, his hands clenching into fists at his sides.  Seeing the other man brought back a well of emotions, not all of them negative.  “Feeling murderous lately?” he asked.

 

Shuri opened her mouth to ream him out, but T’challa held up his hand, stopping her.  She glared at him while Tony ignored them both, taking in Barnes’ new appearance.  Dressed in the casual clothing of the locals, his missing arm was covered in a blue wrap.  His hair was still long, but it was clean and pulled back out of his face.  He looked good, and Tony noticed.

 

Barnes’ lips curved up just slightly. “Not particularly,” he replied easily enough.  “Are you here to take me back?”

 

Tony frowned, trying to follow the other man’s train of thought.  When it dawned on him, he felt like an idiot.  “No!” he said forcefully. “I’m here on a peacekeeping mission, that’s all. I….brought some things that belong to you.”

 

Grey eyes bored into him, and Tony fought the urge to fidget like a schoolboy caught passing notes. “I have nothing,” Barnes told him frankly, and Tony winced.

 

“Maybe,” he admitted softly, “but there are some things that you should have anyhow.  Because they sure as hell don’t belong to anyone else.”  He could sense Shuri’s hard stare, and even T’challa had tensed, both of them obviously realizing that they hadn’t even thought to ask what else Tony had brought with him besides the new cybernetic arm.

 

Barnes noticed as well, but instead of tensing, he met Tony’s eyes with something almost like hope.  “Come inside?” he offered, gesturing back to the hut.

 

“Are you sure about this?” Shuri demanded immediately.  “He tried to kill you!”

 

Barnes looked at him.  “I killed his parents,” he stated baldly.  “I shot him out of the sky in Afghanistan with the intention of handing him over to Hydra.  The only thing he is guilty of is lashing out at the man who took his mother from him.  And the man who knew, but chose to hide it from him.”  Tony stilled; that was the first time that anybody had acknowledged out loud that Steve knew about Barnes killing his parents, but had chosen to say nothing.

 

Grey eyes met his, and Barnes asked again, “Please?”

 

Tony nodded and approached the other man, grateful when Barnes turned around and walked into the hut first as they left their unhappy escorts behind.

 

Once the door was firmly closed behind them, Barnes moved over to a nearby wooden table.  He didn’t offer Tony food or drink, which was just as well. Tony didn’t plan to stay long.

 

Instead, he lifted the rucksack and showed it to Bucky before dropping it onto the middle of the table with a solid thunk.  Opting to at least gives Barnes the illusion of privacy, Tony turned to explore the small building.  Beyond the table, there was a single bed and little else.  Dried herbs hung from the ceiling, and a fur rug of some sort was spread out on the floor.  There was a chest in one corner thatTony guessed probably held food.  

 

Part of Tony was surprised that this place wasn’t decked out with technological marvels, but the larger part suspected that simpler was better where Barnes was concerned.  Besides, the hut was well outside the shield that protected Wakanda from the rest of the world, so he supposed it was in keeping with the third-world country most of the world thought Wakanda to be.

 

There was the soft sound of the canvas straps being pulled through buckles as Bucky opened the rucksack and rummaged in it.  Tony kept his back turned, tension creeping up his spine as Bucky pulled out the new arm and set it on the table with a dull sound.  There was a soft click as he pulled out the small black box and opened it.  There was a pause, then a soft whisper of metal on metal as he pulled out the contents and looked at them.

 

“These are...my dog tags?” Barnes asked softly.

 

Tony nodded.  “Yeah.  I found them when going through my old man’s things.  Most of what he had was Steve’s, but those were in there. I thought maybe you’d want them back.”  Silence, then another soft click as Barnes set the tags on the table next to the arm.

 

A hesitant pause, and Tony wondered if Barnes had picked up his tension.  “What else?” Barnes asked.

 

Tony grimaced.  “The one thing that nobody else should have.  But I thought you might to see to it yourself.  I didn’t read it or anything,” he promised quietly.

 

He could practically feel the fear emanating from the other man as he pulled out the final item; the journal that held his history since Hydra had first pulled him off the mountain, and more importantly, his code words, words of obedience.  “Where did you get this?” Barnes asked, his voice low and tight.  Dangerous.

 

Tony turned to face him, then, not wanting to do this with his back turned.  “T’challa handed Zemo over to Everett Ross and the CIA.  But he didn’t take that.  Perhaps he didn’t know it existed, or maybe it wouldn’t have mattered either way.  But once I realized what it was, I knew I couldn’t turn it over to anybody else.”

 

Barnes looked up at him, met his gaze straight on, wary and grateful all at once.  “You do not know the words?” he asked.

 

Tony shook his head.  “No.  And Zemo was smart; he made sure that the recordings at the Joint Counter Terrorist Centre were destroyed.  I had JARVIS do a thorough search, just in case, but as far as I’m aware, nobody has the information now.”  He paused, taking a moment to glance out one of the windows at the two Wakandans, who were now seated on the hill facing away from them, talking.  “I don’t even know that they’d work anymore,” he added.

 

Barnes had joined him at the window, the journal clenched tightly in his hand.  “Princess Shuri has been working on eradicating the triggers in my head,” he confessed.  “I don’t know if they are all gone, but it’s….better.”  He looked down at the journal.  Tony’s eyes watched as his hand tightened for a moment before relaxing.

 

“You trust her with them?” he asked hoarsely, then cleared his throat, turning his face away to look out the window again.

 

“I do,” Barnes told him.  There was a pause, and then Barnes stepped close, so that he was right in front of Tony, waiting.  Reluctantly, Tony turned his head to meet the other man’s stare.  “I trust you, too,” Barnes said.

 

Tony’s mouth twisted.  “You shouldn’t,” he said, resigned.  “I can’t help you.”

 

“No,” Barnes agreed, “but you can stay here for a little while, can’t you?”  Tony frowned at him, not sure what he was asking.  “I would like somebody familiar when the princess attempts to remove these words.  Steve can’t, he hates watching, and I don’t want him to.”

 

“So I’m the next best thing?” Tony asked wryly, trying not to let his bitterness show.  It always came back to Steve, didn’t it?

 

Barnes grabbed his wrist when he went to walk away, done with this conversation.  Tony turned to glare at him.  “Let go,” he demanded.

 

“This has nothing to do with Steve, and you know it,” Barnes told him firmly.  Tony froze; he didn’t want to hear this, either.  “Steve wants to protect me, and he hates that he can’t.  He hates relying on other people.  I’m a disappointment.”

 

“Don’t you dare say that!” Tony hissed, whirling around to get in Barnes’ space.  “Don’t you dare say you’re a disappointment! He chose you! Do you understand?  He chose you, over everyone and everything. One hundred and seventy countries agreed on something, and Steve chose you over every single one of them!  He chose you over the Avengers.  So don’t you dare stand there and tell me you’re a disappointment to him! You’re all he cares about!”

 

Barnes was eyeing him cautiously, but he hadn’t removed his hand.  “I feel like maybe I should apologize,” he said at last.  Tony growled, and Barnes gave him a small smile.  Tony’s breath caught; he had forgotten just how handsome Barnes was when he smiled.  

 

With a long sigh, he let the anger slide away; it would do him no good anyhow.  “If you want me to stick around, that’s fine,” he said.  “I’m supposed to be in negotiations for access to Wakanda’s vibranium stores, anyhow. These things take time, I’m told,” he added wryly.

 

Barnes moved back over to the table, bringing Tony with them.

 

“About that,” he said, sweeping the items back into the rucksack before clasping it shut and throwing it over his shoulder, “I think you and King T’challa need to have a talk.”

 

He opened the door and stepped out.  T’challa and Shuri stood and turned to face them as Tony stepped out as well.  He met T’challa’s curious gaze.

 

“I hear we may have things to talk about,” Tony told him.

 

T’challa smiled.


End file.
